Keeping Secrets
by nrlmuffins
Summary: In the sequel to "Family Secrets" Brian Clearwater is finally comfortable being a werewolf when suddenly his world gets complicated again. He imprints on the one girl he was supposed to stay away from, his pack is growing, the school talking, and there's the constant vampire threat. If Brian wants to keep his friends and his secret, he'll have to learn to keep his mouth shut.
1. One Friend Of Value

**He used to say that it was better to have one friend of great value than many friends who were good for nothing. -Laertius Diogenes**

The second the High School is in sight, Alex lengthens his stride and walks ahead of me. This of course just proves my theory that the only reason he willingly walked to school with me was because he didn't know how to get here. Still, it was nice spending a little time with him, even if the entire conversation consisted of my answering his random, first day of school questions. I'd like to say that the topic of conversation was brought on by his understandable nerves regarding his first day of high school. I'd like to believe it, but at the same time I know the reason was simply because he had nothing else he wanted to say to me. Mild irritation creeps up on me as I walk, alone, into the foyer of the school. I carefully suppress it and try to think of something else.

Over the last month, I've gotten used to being a werewolf. Managing my temper has become second nature, no thanks to Alex, and I've gotten used to spending my nights running the circumference of La Push. It's actually fairly enjoyable, especially when Jake joins me every so often. He shares stories about the old packs, my parents as kids, and his life with the Cullens. Sometimes I forget that we're supposed to be on the lookout for a rouge bloodsucker, not having a social hour. Or hours, considering the good eight, nine hours we spend out there.

Still, aside from a few faded trails, the vampire has been very good at avoiding us. A couple times we thought he or she may have left, but every time we think that, we find a new trail, and the cycle repeats. We haven't followed any of these trails yet, partially for safety's sake, partially because they're too old to be worth pursuing. It's frustrating, honestly.

A familiar voice interrupts my train of thought. "Hey, Alex!" the voice calls, its owner raising a hand in greeting. Alex ignores the speaker and keeps walking. Unabashed, the speaker shrugs and calls, "Okay, cool. Nice to see you."

I make eye contact with Kyle Uley and smile. "Ignore him," I suggest. "I usually do." Kyle returns the gesture and continues towards me.

Kyle and I have been known each other for about as long as I can remember. Our parents are friends, of course, which led to us being shoved together anytime they decided to invite the other over. Thankfully we didn't mind. Kyle is only a few months younger than me, and we have always gotten along very well.

He was my first friend, and we stayed friends through our first few years of school, despite some obvious social differences. Even in first grade he was incredibly charismatic and athletic; everyone wanted to be his friend. On the flip side, I was an introverted bookworm who always got picked last in kickball. The only reason I wasn't a target for playground bullies was because of Kyle, but that still didn't make me popular.

In spite of this, Kyle and I remained very close friends, though I honestly couldn't figure out why. It wasn't until one night, in second or third grade, when he slept over that I understood.

I mentioned something about how no one at school really liked me, and Kyle of course replied with the polite, "That's not true! People like you!" But he didn't sound very convincing.

"It's fine, I don't need everyone to like me," Eight-year-old Brian replied. "It's just- you're my only friend. Is that weird?"

"No. Because I know all about you. You really only need one friend if he knows all about you," the young Kyle wisely replied.

"Yeah, but you have lots of friends," I moaned.

"But they don't know all about me. You're the only one who does," Kyle said sadly. "You're my number one friend, Brian," little Kyle smiled weakly.

"You're my only one, but even if I had more, you'd be my number one," I promised. From that day on, we called each other our "number one". Nothing changed as we grew up. Kyle has always been the most popular boy in our grade, and I have always been invisible. Still, Kyle has ditched his other friends for me more than once, and neither of us keep any secrets. At least, we didn't used to.

"How've you been, Brian?" Kyle smiles, shaking my hand and clasping me on the back. He releases my hand and looks from mine to his. "Wow, I must be really excited today; my hands are cold!"

Even though I'm very sure that cold hands are a sign of nervousness, not excitement, I don't correct him. If I did, I'd have to explain why mine are so warm. Instead, I ask, "Why are you so excited?"

"Because we're not Freshmen anymore!" he fist pumps as we start walking towards our lockers. "We aren't the bottom of the totem pole anymore!"

"Yeah, because Sophomores are so much higher than Freshmen," I reply.

Kyle misses my sarcasm. "Exactly. We're officially part of this school. Granted we don't have the authority the Seniors do, but who cares? We are no longer the stupid little kids roaming the hallways. Today, we are men."

I can't help laughing, and Kyle joins in. "How was Hawaii?" I ask.

As usual, he responds instantly to a topic change. "Dude, it was incredible." After six solid months of begging and pleading, Kyle was allowed to spend most of the summer at a surfing camp in Maui. I'd be jealous if I wasn't a terrible surfer.

"The waves were unreal. I don't think I'll ever be able to surf here again," Kyle gushes. I let him continue to talk as I throw a few binders into my locker, and he's still going as we head towards his.

"I feel like I'm hogging the conversation. How was your summer?" Kyle says while doing his combination.

"Not nearly as exciting as yours," I admit.

"Nothing crazy happen?" he asks.

"No, not really," I lie, biting my lip.

"Didn't you say your Uncle Jake's been in town? What's he like?" Kyle asks. Honestly, I'd forgotten I'd told Kyle about Jake.

"He's cool. We've been running together," I say truthfully.

Kyle nods. "Yeah, I knew you had to have done something this summer. You're ripped, man. When did that happen?"

"I don't know," I lie again. "Growth spurt? Regular exercise?" Turning into a mythical creature?

"I might have to run with you sometime," he says. I smile and nod, but secretly hope, for his sake, that never happens.

Kyle looks at his watch and groans. "I should go, my first period's in the basement."

"What class?" I ask, grateful for the new subject.

"Speech," he grumbles.

"Fun. I have Chemistry. And, since it's a lab day, I have it for two periods," I complain.

Kyle looks revolted at the thought. "Okay, you win. That sucks."

"It's not the Chemistry part that bothers me, it's the first and second period part that bothers me," I clarify.

"Yeah," he agrees. Suddenly he perks up, as though he just thought of something. "Hey, I know someone in your class!"

"Who?" I ask, expecting one of Kyle's 'other friends'.

He smiles mischievously. "Did I tell you I have a girlfriend?"

"That's awesome!" I say enthusiastically. Judging by the look on his face, he must really like this girl. That and the fact that, despite the countless girls who like him, he has never dated. I wish I had that problem. "When did this happen?"

"We went out a few times at the end of the year last year, and then texted all summer. I didn't tell you because it wasn't official until last night when I got home," Kyle smiles like a lovesick puppy. He's lucky it's me, because any other guy would probably tease him mercilessly.

"Who is it?" I ask.

Kyle suddenly looks uncomfortable. "Taylor Madison," he mumbles.

I try desperately to keep the smile fixed on my face. "That's great," I lie through my teeth.

The story involving Taylor and me starts in the third grade. We sat next to each other, and by the end of the first day, she glued me to my seat. So, the next day, I cut off one of her pigtails. Our teacher was smart enough to move us, but that didn't stop our rivalry.

She would "accidently" kick me in the shin while playing kickball in recess, and I would "accidentally" spill milk on her at lunch. We'd compete over grades, whose lima bean grew faster, and who read a longer book for book reports. Looking back, it was pretty ridiculous, but at the time it was an all-out war.

Our paths didn't cross again until seventh grade, but we hadn't yet outgrown our pettiness. After being seated next to her in English, I begged to move, and during an in-class debate we nearly ripped each other's heads off. I will admit to throwing a piece of cheese at her in lunch after she won.

Either because he knows this story or because I'm a terrible actor, Kyle notices my discontent and says, "Look, Brian, I know you don't like her, but she's actually really nice, and funny, and-"

I cut him off. "Kyle, I don't have to like her. You're dating her, not me."

"True," he agrees. "But I don't want my number one to hate my girlfriend."

"I don't hate her," I insist. "I just don't like her very much."

Kyle tries again. "You know, I bet if you guys tried you could really-"

"For you, man, I'll be civil. But that's all you're getting," I say shortly. "I'm happy for you, though," I add in a kinder tone.

He nods, relieved. "Thanks. I should go. Have fun in Chemistry!"

"Thanks," I reply, knowing full well that I will not be doing anything of the sort if I'm being forced in the same room as Taylor Madison.


	2. The Heart Sees

**Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye. -H. Jackson Brown**

The thrill of imminent knowledge consumes me as I cross the threshold of Mrs. Garret's Chemistry room. Mrs. Garret is one of the oldest teachers at the school; she even had my parents. I'm expecting her class to be a hit-or-miss. She could be one of those older, experienced teachers who knows everything possible and loves her subject, or she could be sick and tired of Chemistry, merely counting down the days until retirement. Hopefully, it's the former.

My dad wasn't kidding when he said she was perky. Travel mug of coffee in hand, she personally greets every student as they walk through the door. "Good morning! Name?" she smiles.

"Brian Clearwater," I reply. She puts a hand to her heart and gasps as though she's having a heart attack. It scares me because, at her age, she very well could be.

"I should have known!" she gushes. "You look exactly like your dad! Or your mom maybe? Oh, I can't decide, but you are definitely their son!" She smiles warmly. "I was not the least bit surprised when they got married, because I have never seen two people more perfect for one another! They were both such joys to have in class, as I'm sure you will be, too!"

I smile politely. "Thanks." Dad was wrong. Perky is an understatement; this woman is almost too excited to function.

Mrs. Garret looks back down at her seating chart. "Let's see, you sit-" She stops and looks at me, her face a mixture of amusement and disbelief. After a moment's pause she continues, slowly and quietly, "Do you know that I, without realizing it, put you in the same seat your dad sat in? And right next to you is a lovely lady." She smiles in a mischievous and self-satisfied way. "Perhaps you'll make your own love connection here."

I'm so thrown off by her enthusiasm and boldness, that all I can say is, "Um, maybe."

She sets her hand gently on my shoulder and says kindly, "I'm sorry, I've probably come off a little strong haven't I?"

"No, it's fine," I insist, respectfully.

She smiles appreciatively. "You can go sit down, I promise not to bother you anymore."

"No, honestly, it's fine," I say, silently wishing I could get that in writing. She smiles again, then mercifully turns to harass the next person who walks through the door.

I take my seat in the back row. The seat to my right is currently empty, so I assume it's for the "lovely lady" Mrs. Garret mentioned. Hopefully she really is pretty, and I'll be free to admire her from the corner of my eye for the rest of the year. One thing I'm sure of is that, no matter who it is, I have no chance. It will take more than growth spurt and newly defined biceps to erase the past ten years from the girl's memory, though I can't help hoping she might notice. At least a little.

The bell rings to officially start first period, leaving Mrs. Garret to give the last few stragglers their seats. I try to tune out her overly happy voice, but perk up at the sound of my name. "Oh, yes, you're sitting next to Brian. He's right there in the back row."

I resist the urge to see who it is, and instead wait until she sits down. It's a good decision on my part, because as she angrily slams down her binder and plops into her seat I notice the name neatly printed on the cover of her planner.

Taylor Madison.

When I promised Kyle I'd be civil, it was for two reasons. One, she annoys me, and I can't afford to be annoyed at school. I'd planed on ignoring her anyway. Two, I assumed we'd sit far, far away from each other. But no. Yet again, I find myself mere inches away from the one person on Earth who truly hates me. This would be bad even if I wasn't a werewolf, (I'd have to resist the urge to dump acids or bases on her.) but now I have to resist the urge to literately murder her.

Thanks, Mrs. Garret.

Neither Taylor or I look at each other, but I am highly aware of her being there. It's almost as if I can feel her breathing beside me, wasting precious oxygen. I want to bang my head against the table, but I would probably break it.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen!" Mrs. Garret says, clapping her hands. "Sorry for the late start, but, of course, I needed to get everyone in their seats. Tomorrow we'll start on time." She pauses, smiling warmly at the class. "Are you all excited for today? A new year, with new opportunities for learning? I know that none of you slept last night, because you were so excited for today! Especially for Chemistry! Yeah? Yeah!"

Glancing around the room, I know I'm not the only one who doesn't quite know what to make of Mrs. Garret. Dozens of blank stares and mild smiles fill the room, and more than one of my classmates is dozing off.

"Alright," Mrs. Garret says, clapping her hands again. "Can anyone tell me what Chemistry is?"

A sudden gust of wind to my right tells me that Taylor knows the answer.

"Taylor?" Mrs. Garret nods.

"It's the study of matter and the changes it undergoes," she answers. I make a fist with my hand. I would have added that it is the study of matter's properties and components, but whatever.

Mrs. Garret beams. "Wonderful! Is Double Bubble okay?"

"Um, sure," Taylor replies uncertainly. Mrs. Garret takes a piece from a drawer behind her desk.

"I apologize in advance for my poor aim," she says just before tossing the gum to Taylor. It sails over everyone's heads, going nowhere near Taylor. Instinctively, I reach up and catch the corner of the wrapper with my thumb and forefinger, barely looking up.

Mrs. Garret stands in awe for a moment. "I see we have an All-Star catcher in this class! Thank you, sir!"

I nod and push the gum towards Taylor. Part of me wants to eat it, just to spite her. I probably would if Mrs. Garret wasn't watching.

"Chemistry is everywhere in our lives. Everywhere, everywhere," she continues. "Even in everyday objects." She holds up a can of Coke, then gives it to Ben Cameron. "Can you please read the ingredients, sir?"

He does, and she stops him as he says "acid."

"Acid," she smiles. "Now the acid utilized in soda won't harm the consumer, but wouldn't that produce some complications for the company trying to store the drink for shipment? Nick, what do they store Coke in?"

"Um, bottles or cans?" he answers.

"And what are bottles and cans made of?" she prompts.

"Bottles are made of plastic and cans are made of metal, right?" he replies.

"Always be confident in your answers," Mrs. Garret says, nodding in a motherly way. "And yes. Julia, why would that be a problem?"

Julia drops the hair she had been twirling around her finger, and turns to face Mrs. Garret instead of the window. "Um, I don't know," she mumbles.

"Yes, you do!" Mrs. Garret insists. "You're overlooking the obvious. What happens when acids come into contact with metal?"

"Um, can't they, like, eat through it or something?" she says.

"See, you knew that! Yes, acids can decompose metals." Mrs. Garret holds up the Coke can again. "So why can it be stored in a metal can? Wouldn't the acid decompose the metal before you were able to purchase it?"

Taylor's hand flies into the air again. I bite my tongue to keep myself in check. "Maybe the can isn't actually made of metal," she suggests. It's a stupid suggestion. I have a better one, and I raise my hand to say it before Mrs. Garret even replies to Taylor's.

"No, it's made with metal, but excellent suggestion! What do you think, Brian?" she asks.

"Since acid doesn't decompose plastic, maybe there's some plastic interwoven with the metal." Mrs. Garret beams while Taylor glares at me. It's a good feeling.

Mrs. Garret walks back to my seat and hand me the can, which I now notice is empty. "Could you please open up the can?" she asks.

"Open it?" I ask, confused.

"If you would, please, expose the inside?" she prompts. For a moment, I'm not sure what she's asking. Then I take each end of the can and start ripping it in half. Mrs. Garret nods encouragingly, so I completely tear the can in two.

"What does plastic feel like. Andrew?" she calls.

"Like, cool and smooth," he answers. She nods.

"Could you please describe what the inside of the can feels like," she instructs me. I run my finger along the inside of a can.

"Cool and smooth?" I reply. The cool part was just because of Andrew's answer. Everything feels cool to me now, so I'm not the best judge of temperature.

"So, what do you think?" Mrs. Garret asks. I open my mouth, but before I can say anything, Taylor steals my thunder.

"The can is lined with plastic to prevent decomposition of the metal," she answers pompously.

"Excellent!" Mrs. Garret smiles at Taylor and takes the can from me, returning to the front of the room. I can't help myself. I cave and turn to glare at Taylor for taking my moment. And for just being alive in general.

For a moment I wonder if I've died and gone to heaven. Never in my life have I experienced a moment of joy as pure as this. It's as if nothing I did meant anything until now. The world makes sense, and I understand my purpose in life. I feel like I've been lost my entire life, and finally found a GPS.

Taylor's annoyed glare melts into confusion. Her eyes narrow at the look on my face. I can only imagine my expression. She looks away, and I realize I've made her uncomfortable. That's the last thing I want to do, but at the same time I can't stop staring. The way her hair frames her flawless face, how her dark brown eyes shine as they catch the light, the gentle curve of her lips, I could go on and on. Somehow, in my hatred I missed all these wonderful, wonderful things. How blind was I?

Taylor glances out of the corner of her eye, and her lips twitch upon seeing that I'm still watching her. Reluctantly, I turn towards the front of the room. As much as I wish I could continue to soak up her beauty, I take comfort in feeling her relax beside me. Her comfort and happiness is more important to me.

I give Mrs. Garret my best attempt at attention, but her other intro-to-Chem experiments have less than no appeal to me. The only thing that matters to me is the girl to my right. And I was worried I'd have to try not to kill her in this class.

With a few minutes left in the second period, Mrs. Garret makes an announcement that sends my happiness through the roof. "The person at your table will be your lab partner this semester. You will need to be able to work cooperatively and trust one another in lab, so I feel we need some time to get to know one another. The rest of the period is yours, but I want to see some bonding!" She glances around the room, staring us down with a smile. Then she adds, "While I would never listen in on your private conversations, I do want to see some chatting. Yes?" A few people nod vaguely. "Okay, the rest of the period is yours," she repeats.

Thrilled, I turn to Taylor. "So, how was your summer?"

"Why were you staring at me?" she demands, completely ignoring my question.

"Sorry, I was zoning out. I didn't realize I was doing it," I lie, fairly convincingly. She bites her lip and surveys me cautiously. "I'm sorry." She doesn't say anything, so I add, "Your idea about the can not being made of metal was really good, I wouldn't have thought of it." Okay, maybe I still think it was stupid, but even so, I want her to feel smart.

Instead, she continues to study me before finally asking, "Why are you being nice to me?"

I would honestly like to know the answer to that myself. I can't understand or explain these feelings I have for her, but I know that it's the greatest sensation I've ever experienced, and I don't want it to end. Since that explanation sounds both fruity and borderline psychotic, I settle with, "Look, we've been at war since we were eight. Don't you think it's time for a cease-fire? Especially since we'll have to handle actual fire together?"

Again, all she does is stare me down, as though waiting to discover some kind of ulterior motive. If she didn't look so beautiful with one eyebrow raised and her lips pursed, I might be getting annoyed. But I'm not. I'd be content to watch her watch me all day. Eventually she asks, "Is this because of Kyle?"

For one sad, unforgivable moment, I have no idea what she is talking about. Then it hits me- Kyle. Her boyfriend. My best friend. My number one. Shit.

"Well, that's part of it," I admit while attempting to suppress the guilt surrounding the discovery that I have a thing for my best friend's girlfriend. "But also, we're in tenth grade now. I think it's time to forgive and forget."

She continues to observe me, a softer expression coating her face. "Okay, yeah. But if you're just messing with me-"

I stop her mid-warning. "I promise I'm not." Her eyes don't leave mine as I raise my right hand as a sign of sincerity.

"So," she says slowly. "How was your summer?" Her tone suggests that she can't believe she's actually asking this, and isn't sure if she should care about the answer.

But I do answer, and she answers about her summer. In those last eight minutes of second period, Taylor Madison and I have our first real conversation. It's weird, but wonderful and magical. Even she seems to enjoy herself as we talk and laugh pleasantly. As the bell rings, she quickly gathers her things, smiling slightly from our conversation.

"Bye, Taylor," I say, waving.

"Bye, Brian," she calls, looking back with a "did that just happen" expression on her face. I smile to myself, and let the memory of her mask the void in my soul that was created the second she left my sight.

Alex walks through the back door and continues through the kitchen, down the hall, and into his room without breaking stride. Mom acts fast and calls, "How was your first day?"

"Fine," he says while slamming the door. It's a good thing I'm in a great mood, or I'd be mad at him for being rude to my mom. As it is, I barely register the hurt expression on her face. What's wrong with me? Taylor, that's what.

"How was your day, Brian?" Mom asks distractedly, still staring sadly towards Alex's room.

"Excellent," I breathe, grinning widely.

Mom turns to me, taken aback. She stares at me almost as though experiencing a déjà vu moment. "Oh?" she asks carefully. "When it did get 'excellent'?"

That strikes me as an interesting question, but I answer anyway. "First period Chemistry."

"You like Mrs. Garret that much?" Something about her face leads me to believe that's not what she's really asking.

"Well, I like where she had me sit," I reply, smiling again. "I like my lab partner a lot."

Mom closes her eyes and shakes her head, smiling softy. "Brian," she laughs softly.

"What? Mom, what's going on?" I demand. She's being very cryptic.

"Honey, did Jake tell you what imprinting was?" she asks. It sounds familiar, but if he mentioned it, it was during that night he threw an insane amount of information at me. I only retained the basics.

"I don't know. What is it?" I say cautiously.

Mom takes a deep breath and says, "It's sort of like the werewolf equivalent of love at first sight. But it's more than that. When Jake explained it to me, he said it was as if gravity didn't hold you to Earth anymore, but that she did-"

"You'd do anything, be anything for her," I finish. "Yeah, Jake did tell me this. But what-"

Mom cuts me off this time. "You imprinted on your lab partner. I knew it when I saw your face." She smiles and bites her lip. "It's a look I've seen about a million times."

"So what does this mean now? We're like- soul mates?" I have to admit I like the sound of it.

Mom nods. "More or less."

I still don't know how to react. "But, what am I supposed to do now? Are we supposed to start dating or something?"

"No, not exactly. You're going to want to do what's best for her. You won't start anything romantic until she starts it," Mom says.

"I won't?" I find that hard to believe considering all the romantic, fruity, incredibly embarrassing fantasies I've been having all day.

"Well think about it," Mom continues. "What's more important to you? Being her boyfriend or being whatever she needs you to be? Even if it's just her lab partner for now?"

I don't even hesitate before answering, "I'll be the greatest lab partner she could ever ask for." So fruity, but so true. What's wrong with me? Well, at least I like it. It's stupid, but I love this.

Mom cocks her head to the side and watches me like I'm a little puppy or something. "Yeah, you imprinted on her. What's her name?"

"Taylor Madison," I breathe, relishing the sound of her name on my lips.

"That girl who knocked your front teeth out with a Frisbee?" Mom gasps.

"Yeah," I admit.

"Seriously? You imprinted on the girl whose mother called me, screaming, because you pushed her into the creek behind the school?" Mom shakes her head, half amused, half dumbstruck.

I nod, then change the subject. "Who else do you know that imprinted?"

"You'd be surprised," she laughs. "It's supposed to be rare, but the last pack was huge, so the probability went up I guess."

"Yeah, that makes sense. But who do you know?" I prompt. "You said you've seen that look a million times."

"More like a million times a day, really," she amends. "Dad imprinted on me." She blushes slightly and pushes her hair behind her ear.

"Really?" I gasp. But it makes sense as I think about it. The way Dad loves her is like nothing I've ever seen except-

"Yeah, and same with Uncle Paul. He imprinted on Aunt Rachel," Mom continues.

"Anyone else?" I ask.

"Let's see- Seth, Paul, Jake, Quil, Jared, and I feel like I'm forgetting someone." She pauses. "Oh, of course! Sam. Yeah, he was the first actually. First to phase, first to imprint."

"Sam who?" I ask. He was first? I wish I could have talked to him about a month ago.

"How many Sams do you know?" she ask incredulously. "Uley. Sam Uley. Kyle's dad."

I close my eyes and swear under my breath.

"What?" Mom asks.

Oh, nothing, it's just that I forgot for the second time today that Taylor was dating my best friend. I imprinted on my best friend's girlfriend. My best friend, who has an excellent chance of being a werewolf himself.

"Taylor's dating Kyle," I grumble, still not opening my eyes.

"Oh," she says tonelessly. "That could be a problem."

I look up. "Really?" I ask sarcastically. I take a deep breath, trying not to flip out on my mom.

"Well, look, Brian, you aren't going to start dating her right now! Eventually, maybe, but not yet!"

I know she was trying to console me, but it doesn't work. "So, I'm going to eventually end up with my best friend's girlfriend?"

"I mean, not necessarily," she amends quickly. "It's her choice, after all."

"But probably," I say matter-of-factly. She doesn't answer.

"He's been dating her one day and now I have some freaky wolf claim on her," I moan. "I'm a terrible friend!"

"No, you're not! You have no control over this! And you aren't going to be trying to steal her!" She still isn't helping.

"I can't even tell him, can I?" I say, more to myself than her. Still, she frowns and shakes her head.

I run a hand through my hair, at a loss for words. I want nothing more than to make Taylor happy, but would doing that hurt my friendship with Kyle? Is it even possible to have them both in my life?  
The phone rings, and Mom quickly grabs it. "Hello?" she answers. "Hey, Paul, we were just talking about you! What's wrong?" her voice turns abruptly serious. "Uh huh. Okay. Yeah, no, I got it. Well, he'll get it anyway. Yeah, okay. Bye."

She hangs up and turns to me. "Ready to officially be the Alpha?" she asks.

I'm thrown off by the subject change. "What?"

"You have your first pack member," she elaborates.

My brain freezes. I can't think. I can't react. Somehow, my mouth moves anyway. "Who?" I hear myself ask.

"John."


	3. Change

**Life is change. Growth is optional. Choose wisely. -Karen Kaiser Clark**

Confusion, fear, and thoughts like "I've lost my mind" run through my head, along with a constant stream of swearing. I can't seem to form an English sentence, and I have to look down to see my dad.

No, not my dad- John's dad. Uncle Paul.

I'm experiencing everything John sees and feels as though it's happening to me as well. I can clearly see the trees surrounding me, but can just as clearly see John's kitchen. Having John in my head is nothing like communicating with Jake. With him, it's like a conversation. Right now, it's as if John and I share one mind. It's so weird.

At least I'm slightly prepared for this. John, on the other hand, is having a mental breakdown because he hears voices in his head.

I try to focus my thought into words. _John, it's Brian. Don't freak out!_ Of course this has the opposite effect, causing my cousin to freak out even more.

_Dude, it's fine, just come outside. I'll explain everything._

John calms down as I let my mind run over everything I know about being a werewolf. He cringes at the thought of being a monster, but takes comfort in the knowledge that I was just as freaked out as he was. Actually, I was even more freaked out.

John meets me in a clearing not far from my house. He whines slightly when he sees me as a wolf. I have to admit, I'm not thrilled to see myself through his eyes. I've gotten used to being a wolf, but something about seeing myself as a gigantic, russet wolf bothers me. John hates seeing his dark gray wolf self as well, but we can't help grinning at the other.

_Your fur is sticking up in the back,_ he tells me.

_Your paws are too small for your body,_ is my retort.

_I have small feet. It's hereditary, _he says defensively.

_Yeah, well, same with my hair, _ I say. We both end up laughing, and somehow don't mind being canines.

A strong bond is almost instantly formed between us. As helpful as it's been to have Jake helping me through this, having John is completely different. I feel a little selfish for enjoying John's phasing. I didn't want anyone else to go through this.

_It's cool. It doesn't sound that bad. Except the whole "guard dog" thing. Who do they think they are?_ John lets out a low growl.

_We haven't seen any sign of them in a while. I'd hoped they left,_ I comment sadly. _Guess not if you phased._

_Sorry about that,_ John jokes.

Together we run the perimeter of La Push. He runs a pace or so behind me on my right. Somehow, it feels instinctive to run that way. We just go with it, but at the same time I can't help wondering why it feels right.

_That's how wolves run in the wild, isn't it?_ John suggests. _The leader on point and the second in command to the right._ I realize he's right. Still, it feels weird to be considered the Alpha wolf, even if it's a title I've held for a while.

_No offense, but I really can't see you leading anything,_ John says, in sync with my thoughts. _You're just not that type of person._

_Yeah, I know. But it's supposed to be me. It's hereditary._ Though I agree with John, part of me resents the challenge to my authority. It must be the wolf part, I guess.

_I'm not challenging that, I'm just saying,_ John adds defensively.

_I know. Don't listen to me, it's the wolf talking,_ I insist.

John replies grimly, _Trust me, I wish I could not listen to you. This is so weird._

_Yeah, I know_, I agree.

John tries to conceal a random, passing question from me and fails, of course. I answer anyway.

_Yeah, John, you're second in command. Not like you have any competition, though, _ I point out, amused.

_If you're Alpha, does that make me Beta?_ He asks eagerly. _That's the next Greek letter, right?_

_Sure, you're Beta,_ I agree.

_Yes! _He cheers. _My life has been made. I am Beta of a wolf pack._

_That was your life goal? _ I ask.

_Not until five minutes ago,_ he admits.

We both know he's doing this to convince himself that he is okay with all this, so I drop the subject and keep running.

_How often do you run like this?_ He asks.

_Every day,_ I answer._ Vampires can come out during the day, but ours is more likely to be running around at night, so I usually run from sunset to sunrise._

_Aren't you tired in the morning?_ He's imagining going to school after running for over ten hours before.

_Well, it's been summer, so I've just been going back to bed. And today wasn't that bad, but tomorrow…_ I trail off, thinking of how exhausted I'll be during school tomorrow. Or is it already tomorrow? The night is black enough that it could be ten P.M. or two A.M.

_Now that there's two of us, we can take turns running, _John suggests. _That way only one of us will have to pull an all-nighter, and the other can sleep it off._

_That's a great idea, _I agree, already anticipating twelve hours of sleep tomorrow. Or more.

_School's going to be brutal tomorrow,_ he agrees.

_Actually, you don't have to go tomorrow, _I say.

John is both excited and confused.

_You need to take a few days to make sure you can keep your temper in check. _I tell him. _You can probably come back next week._

_I can keep my temper in check,_ he insists.

_It's completely different when you're a wolf. _I explain. _Those little things that just kind of bother you could cause you to completely flip out and wolf up._ He still doesn't believe me, so I ask, _What made you phase in the first place?_

He recalls his dad complaining that he loaded the dishwasher wrong, causing the plates to still be dirty. _Okay, I see your point, _he says sheepishly. _But after a week I should be okay?_

_No, not really,_ I admit. _I've had a month of practice, and I still get irrationally angry over little things. _The first thing to come to mind is Alex.

_Then why are you at school?_ He asks.

_I'm doing everything I can to avoid anything and anyone that might upset me,_ I say._ I can control myself to a point, but-_

_You'd rather not take the chance, _he finishes. _So, what, you're avoiding everyone at school who annoys you?  
Pretty much._ I say. _For once, having no friends comes in handy._

_Does that mean I need to avoid my friends?_ He asks sadly. _They all annoy me. It's not enough that I don't want to be friends with them, but it's enough-_

_To make you upset now,_ I finish.

John waits silently, knowing exactly what I'm about to say, but still afraid to hear the words.

_You can't put them at risk,_ I say simply. _It's too dangerous for them. _I feel John's pain. It was easy for me, already having no friends, but John has tons of them. I see all their faces and personalities flash before me, and I feel exactly what he does at the idea of losing them.

_I'm sorry, John,_ I say. It's not enough, but John knows I mean it.

_I can't even tell them why, can I?_ he adds. Despair settles in as I acknowledge that truth.

Trying to distract himself, John changes the focus to me. _You're still talking to Kyle?_

_Yeah,_ I admit. _I can't remember one time he's made me upset._

_That's nice,_ he comments sadly. _You should be avoiding Taylor Madison like the plague, though, right? You guys hate each other._

At the mention of Taylor, John gets the whole story.

_No. Freakin. Way. _He stops running due to shock. _That's nuts._

_I know, _I answer.

_But the way you feel about her,_ he pauses, absorbing my emotions. _That is the greatest thing I've ever felt. Dude, I want to imprint!_

_No, you don't,_ I groan, thinking of the Kyle issue.

_Oh, that sucks,_ John agrees. _This whole wolf thing sucks, actually._

His analysis sparks the memory of my dad's pep talk when I first became a wolf.

"_It sucks, but it's not that bad,"_ John repeats. _Your dad would say that._

_He's not wrong,_ I add defensively. _Some of it is good._

_I guess so,_ he grumbles.

_The speed is nice,_ I say, sprinting away from John.

He picks up his pace and passes me. _You're right. That part's fun._

The next few weeks, like any typical first month of school, were spent adjusting to a new way of life. The only difference between this year and last was that instead of adapting to new teachers and schedules, I now had a few other things to get used to.

John came back to school a week after phasing. His friends flocked him, wanting to know what was wrong with him. His only answer was that he was sick, and then he dutifully avoided him. That week was incredibly hard for John, so I did my best to keep him distracted and happy.

For the first time in years I actually spent lunch in the cafeteria. Instead of helping teachers or studying in the library, I ate with John. To distract him, I came up with all sorts of games for us to play. We arm wrestled (and were oddly evenly matched), threw bite sized foods at each other, trying to catch it in our mouths, and stared down the freshmen girls at the table next to us, competing to see who could make his target more uncomfortable. None of these antics made us popular with our neighboring tables, but we certainly had fun.

While it was common knowledge that John and I were cousins, it was also widely known that we weren't exactly friends. In a school as small as ours, it's unsurprising that our spending time together was widely discussed. But, like all high school gossip, it soon blew over, and John and I were able to harass each other and innocent freshmen in peace.

The best part of John being a wolf was that I no longer had to run every night. Between the two of us, we encountered a few trails from our undead guest. Still, none of these trails were fresh enough to follow. It was incredibly frustrating. In the event we would ever did get a fresh trail, it was agreed we wouldn't explore it alone. Whoever was running would call the other person before following it. To do this, I suggested we started carrying a cell phone in the pocket of the pants we carried around us. John argued, because he was afraid he'd lose his precious phone. My fear was that one of us would find a trail and not be able to contact the other. Partially due to my sound logic, and mostly due to the fact I'm Alpha, John sucked it up and carried his phone with him, and I did the same.

As much as I was enjoying John's company, the greatest moments in my life now happened first and second period. Despite her insane ability to memorize almost anything, Taylor quickly began suffering through Chemistry. Somehow she couldn't comprehend the math portions, and wasn't able to apply the theory. Homeroom period became a time for me to re-explain everything Mrs. Garret had just taught in the hope that Taylor would understand. Somehow, she did, and her grades began to improve.

During labs, she couldn't use a striker and was afraid to touch anything that could potentially have chemicals on it, be hot, or be dangerous in any other way. The result- she did as much as she was willing to, then copied down our observations while I completed the more "dangerous" reactions. We actually made a great team.

Slowly, but surely, Taylor got better at Chem. She managed to scrape B's on the tests and together we submitted A-worthy lab reports. One day, after getting several assignments back, she abruptly hugged me and said, "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I don't know what I would do without you!"

To say my day was made would be an understatement.

Shortly afterwards, we started using that homeroom period to talk about more than just Chem. We talked about life, what we were doing and what we liked. We disagreed on many, many subjects, but it was so fun to debate with her. No one ever won, but more than once I was late to my next class because I stood outside hers, arguing playfully over something insignificant.

As much as I was enjoying my new friendship with Taylor, I couldn't help feeling guilty. A small part of me wished I could tell Kyle, but a larger part hoped I would never have to. That part tried to justify itself by insisting it was because I didn't want Kyle to have to be a werewolf. But I knew the real reason was that I didn't want to have to tell Kyle that his girlfriend is my soul mate.

So, my number one remained happily oblivious to any threat to his relationship status, and was instead thrilled that Taylor and I were getting along.

"See," he told me, a smug smile crossing his face. "I knew you guys would be great friends if you gave it a shot! What did I tell you?"

"You were right," I agreed, feeling slightly guilty as usual.

"I mean, you're like the same person!" he continued. "Maybe that's why you didn't get along for a while."

I could barely take the irony of his statement. Of course we are "like the same person". She's my other half. And I'm a terrible friend.


	4. Reasons

**A person usually has two reasons for doing something: a good reason and the real reason. -Thomas Carlyle**

September flew by in a haze of change, and I am very surprised to see the date on Mrs. Garret's board say October 1st. Soon, Molly will be begging me to wear some ridiculous coordinating costume while I take her Trick-or-Treating. John has already asked if we could let ourselves be seen on Halloween, and scare kids. I had to be Alpha and put my paw down on that one. I don't approve of emotionally scarring children. Even if it would be hilarious.

Taylor takes her seat beside me, and turns to smile with a cheerful, "Good morning!"

"How're you?" I ask, soaking up the sunshine she brings in my life.

"Fine," she answers shortly before changing the subject. "Hey, did Kyle talk to you about Homecoming?"

"What about it?" I ask, confused. Kyle hasn't mentioned anything related to Homecoming. At least not that I remember.

Taylor rolls her eyes and says mostly to herself. "Typical. He never remembers anything. It's a good thing he's attractive." She turns to me. "Are you going?"  
"To what?" I'm still hung up on her mumbled comment about Kyle being attractive. I'm attractive, aren't I? Shut up, Brian. She's not your girlfriend.

Taylor shakes her head sadly. "I can see why you two are friends. Homecoming. Are you going?"

Mildly amused by her exasperation, I smile before saying, "Well, I wasn't planning on it."

"Are you free though?" she asks.

I mentally calculate if I'm running that night or not. "Yeah."

"Well, Kyle was supposed to ask you," slight bitterness leaks into her voice, but she continues. "But would you like to go with my friend Cara? She doesn't have a date but really wants to go, except she won't go with Kyle and me unless she has a date. She doesn't want to be the third wheel."

"Cara Pollard?" I ask.

"Yeah. Would you be willing to go with her?" Taylor bites her lip and her eyes start silently begging like a hungry puppy's.

"Of course," I answer instantly. If it makes Taylor happy, it's worth it.

"Thank you! Cara will be so excited!" she cheers.

"I am too," I reply, enjoying her smiling face.

The bell rings, and Mrs. Garret drains the last bit of coffee in her mug before starting the class. Quickly, Taylor whispers, "Come by my locker after school and I'll give you the details."

I nod and smile widely.

On my way to Taylor's locker, I take the time to actually pause and consider if I want to go with Cara or not. When I think of how happy it made Taylor to set her friend up, I couldn't say no. But, it's only fair to Cara for me to at least think this through.

All I know about Cara is that she's a nice, pretty girl who typically stays under the radar, but isn't an introvert like I am. She sat next to me in English last year, and sometimes she walks her dog past my house. Okay, I'll go with her.

Apparently, she is debating the same question as I approach Taylor's locker. I'm still out of normal human earshot, but I can perfectly hear Cara say, "Brian Clearwater? Really?"

"He's actually a really nice guy," Taylor insists. "He's my lab partner, and without him I'd be failing Chem."

Cara laughs. "I just can't believe you're setting me up with him! I thought you hated him!"

"I did," Taylor confesses. "But, I don't know, things are different this year. I like it better."

"Well, he is a nice guy. And have you seen him lately? He got hot over the summer!" Cara says, as though trying to convince herself that going with me would not only be a good idea, but the best possible idea ever.

"So is that a yes?" Taylor prompts.

"Yeah, I think so. Part of me just wishes that I'd get officially asked, though." She sighs quietly.

"I understand," Taylor agrees.

Now a few feet away, I announce my presence. "Hey, Taylor. Hey, Cara."

"Hi Brian," Taylor smiles. Her smile, paired with the nice things she just said about me have pushed my level of happiness through the roof.

"Hey, Brian," Cara says kindly.

I turn to her and say, "So, I know we're already kind of going, but I thought I should officially ask you- Will you go to Homecoming with me?"

Pleasantly taken aback, Cara nods eagerly. "Yeah, thanks!"

I smile in response, discretely checking Taylor's reaction from the corner of my eye. She smile pleasantly at her friend's good fortune, and my consideration. I quickly turn back to face Cara when I see Taylor turn to look at me.

Luckily for me, Taylor immediately becomes distracted by Kyle walking up behind her.

"Hey, babe," he says, kissing her. My stomach contracts in a mixture of guilt and mild jealousy as I turn quickly to look at Cara. We exchange embarrassed glances. Hopefully, she takes my flushed face as me coping with the awkward PDA we witnessed, and not anything else.

"Kyle, you never talked to Brian about Homecoming," Taylor scolds, once she comes up for air.

"What was I supposed to tell him?" he asks, glancing questioningly at me.

"About me going with Cara," I prompt. "Don't worry, we got it."

Kyle still looks confused. "You're going with Cara?"

Taylor rolls her eyes. "You're really stupid, you know that?" she tells Kyle.

"It's part of my charm," he answers simply.

Shaking her head while wearing the faintest trace of a smile, she asks, "Are we going to your house before or mine?"

"Mine, if everyone's good with that," he says. We all nod our approval. Then he turns to me in disbelief, "So, you're actually going to Homecoming? I just can't see you in a suit."

"True, but I can't ditch Cara now, that would be rude," I say, smiling at her. She laughs. "I'll have to get one I guess."

"You don't even have one?" Cara gasps.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see John nervously creeping towards us, seemingly hoping I'll walk away before he has to come over. I decide to be annoying and drag him into the conversation. "Hey, John, do you have a suit?"

His eyes flicker to Cara before focusing on me. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Why?"

"Can I borrow it for Homecoming? We're about the same size?"

Again, his eyes flash to Cara before he replies, "Sure, I guess. Wait-" he suddenly gives me his full attention, startled at my question. "You're going to Homecoming?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" I moan to no one in particular. Am I that much of an antisocial dork? Unfortunately I know the answer is yes.

"Well, no it's just-" This time John's eyes flicker to Taylor.

"I'll explain on the way. Bye, guys!" I say, giving Taylor an extra wave, before walking off with John.

One goodbye sticks out among the rest. "Bye, John!" Cara quickly calls, almost as though she was afraid if she didn't say it she'd lose her nerve.

John spins around, dumbstruck. "Bye, Cara," he waves slowly before carefully turning back around.

When we're out of earshot I ask, "Did you imprint on her?"

John shakes his head. "No, I just- no, I didn't."

I don't pry, instead honoring the limited privacy he has from me. But I do add, "Good thing, or it would be kind of awkward with me taking her to Homecoming."

"You're taking her where?!" John demands.

Maybe he hasn't imprinted, but it's a good thing we're already outside, and I already have a good explanation for this irritated werewolf.


	5. Action

**Leadership is action, not position. -Donald H. Mcgannon**

Music pounds, the lights are dim except for random flashes of a few carefully positioned strobe lights, and I'm surrounded by more bodies than I feel comfortable with. Despite the insanity around me, I find myself truly enjoying Homecoming. Cara and I have a great time dancing and talking. Even though her arms aren't exactly the pair I wanted around my neck, she's a great girl and she looks beautiful tonight.

The song ends and Cara turns her head to yell to Taylor, "Having fun?"

I try desperately not to look at her, but I fail, yet again. Even after a few hours of heat have had time to melt her hair and makeup, Taylor looks just as stunning as she did walking into Kyle's house earlier. Her hair falls in loose curls over her shoulders and her excited smile lights up the room much better than any strobe light could. I would be lying if I said I'm not jealous of Kyle right now.

"Yes!" Taylor screams back. At least, it sounds like screaming to me. I'm sure to everyone else, her voice is at a normal volume in comparison to the music. "You?"

"Yeah! It's just really hot in here!" Cara complains. I can't help feeling guilty. While I can't be completely to blame for the intense heat in the room, I have to be causing at least part of Cara's discomfort.

"Do you want to get a drink or something?" I ask her.

"No, I'm having too much fun!" she replies, smiling.

"Okay," I answer, smiling back.

The music slows down and the DJ's voice echoes over the crowd. "Hey party people!" My classmates scream in response. "Let's slow things down and shake things up!" More screaming. "Grab someone who's not your date, and slow dance it up!"

Cara and I exchange glances before turning to Kyle and Taylor. Kyle doesn't show any interest in listening to the DJ, but Taylor says, "Do you guys want to switch then?" Kyle is taken aback. "One dance, babe," she promises.

Kyle shrugs. "Hey, why not. It's just Brian." He turns to me and jokingly adds, "You wouldn't try and steal my girlfriend."

Pretending not to hear him over the music, I swallow my guilt and let go of Cara, allowing Taylor to take her place. With this set of arms around my neck, I have to keep reminding myself that her boyfriend, and my best friend, is only two feet away.

After a few moments, Taylor says, "You know if someone had told me a month ago that I would dance with Brian Clearwater at Homecoming, I'd have told them to go back on their meds."

I laugh, "Same. But I like that we don't hate each other anymore."

"Me too," she agrees, leaning forward. I do the same, stopping as our foreheads touch. "I'm really glad we're friends, Brian."

"Me too," I say. Maybe friends is all we are now, but we've come a long way in a month. And who knows? Maybe in another month.

"Brian!" a voice says. My own conscience, no doubt. Fresh guilt washes over me again and I lean away from Taylor. But then I realize she already turned away, towards a person to my right.

"John?" I gasp. A mixture of anger and confusion hits me. He's supposed to be running. I can't believe he abandoned his post!

As I take a deep breath, John anticipates my questions, "I'm sorry, but we have an emergency."

I let go of Taylor and tell her, "Be right back." Then I lead John to the side of the room so we won't be overheard. Not that anyone can hear over the music, but still.

"First of all, it's not about a trail," he starts. I breathe a lot easier, because that was the first thing I thought of. But then I start panicking again. What could possibly be important enough for John to stop running and come crash Homecoming?

"Then what-"

"Someone phased," John breathes.

My heart skips a beat. "Who?"

"Ben Cameron."

Quite honestly, I don't think I've ever had a real conversation with Ben, excluding the small talk we've made around our parents. Still, I feel sorry for him, and irritated with John. "Why did you leave! He's probably freaking out!" I demand, going a little too Alpha on John, who shrinks back submissively.

"I wasn't sure how to explain it, I'm sorry," he mumbles, ashamed. It hits me that John has probably talked to Ben as much as I have. "So I ran here. Along the way I saw Jared call your place, and your mom told him you were here. I called her before I came in, so Ben knows you're coming. Sorry."

Alpha or not, I don't like the way my cousin is obviously afraid of me. I punch him lightly in the arm and say, "It's fine, I get it." John relaxes, and I jerk my head back to Kyle, Taylor, and Cara, who are all watching anxiously.

John follows me back to the group. "Sorry guys, I have a family emergency, and I need to go right now," I tell them regretfully. Guess I'll have to finish that dance with Taylor another time.

"What about Cara?" Taylor asks, glancing sadly at her friend.

"Oh, no, it's fine, I understand," Cara says quickly.

After a quick glance at Taylor, I turn back to Cara, my mind made up. "No, it's not. You're too pretty not to have an escort."

She blushes. "Honestly, Brian, it's fine-"

I ignore her and continue, "Which is why John is going to stay with you."

I'm surprised he doesn't faint, given the shock on his face. "What? But-"

"Come on, John, you know you want to," I tease. "And you can't leave such a beautiful girl alone."

John looks at Cara, who is staring at him, silently begging. His mouth hangs loosely and twitches slightly. Getting a hold of himself, he gestures to his clothes, or lack thereof.

"I'm not dressed for this," he says. Honestly, he's more clothed than most of the seniors, but still, his shorts-only style is a bit out of place. So, I take off my jacket start on my tie.

John, realizing what I'm doing, moans, "Brian, no-"

"Yes," I say firmly, giving him a look that clearly says, "I'm your Alpha so do what I say."

John glances at Cara and then willingly obeys, taking my jacket, tie, shirt, and shoes. Maybe I'm not the only one stripping tonight, but at least I have the dignity to keep my pants on.

"Thanks," John says, putting everything on.

"Hey, it's yours anyway," I remind him. Turning back to Taylor and Kyle, I add a final, "Sorry! Have fun!"

Taylor definitely does not hear me, but is instead focused on my torso. Even Kyle comments, "Whoa, dude! Can I come running with you?"

"Um, maybe," I grumble more to myself. I turn to say goodbye to Cara, but she and John are already dancing. Rolling my eyes, I run out of Homecoming.


	6. Friends and Enemies

"**It is difficult to say who do you the most harm: enemies with the worst intentions or friends with the best." -Edward G. Bulwer-Iytton**

"I'm tired," John moans. It's lunch period a week later; Ben's first lunch since returning to school after a week of being "sick". All day he's been flocked by the friends he is now ignoring, and if anyone has the right to complain it's him, not John.

"Why? You didn't even have to run last night," Ben grumbles. I watch him carefully out of the corner of my eye. He definitely has the right to be annoyed, but he needs to keep that in check.

"Yeah, well I still haven't caught up on my sleep from last weekend when I ran both days!" John sighs dramatically, throwing me an accusatory glare.

"John, if you bring that up one more time you're running a whole week by yourself," I threaten. "And for the last time, Ben and I ran most of Saturday! You got the night off, took my clothes, and had a hot date. You deserved to run Sunday."

Yes, while I had to explain everything to Ben, John danced with Cara and then went out for ice cream. That would be my luck- losing the girl, and the waffle cone. I don't blame him or Ben, but it would have been nice to at least finish my dance with Taylor. If only he could have shown up five minutes later…

"They were my clothes, as I recall," John reminds me.

I throw a bottle of water at him. "Shut up, John," I say, grinning.

He catches the bottle easily, opens it, and drinks it. "What now, Alpha?"

"Now, you're going to buy me a new bottle of water," I say simply, throwing on a joking version of an Alpha glare.

John rolls his eyes. "Here," he says, sliding it back across the table.

"I don't want it now, you spit in-" the look on Ben's face interrupts my train of thought. "Ben, are you okay?"

"Huh?" he asks distractedly, staring across the cafeteria. Frowning slightly, he turns back to me. "Yeah, fine." In a state of despair, he starts spinning his own bottle cap around.

John and I exchange glances before following Ben's path of vision. On the other side of the cafeteria is a table full of guys in our grade, with one notable empty seat. The guys at the table have their heads down, deep in discussion, but keep looking up towards our table. Even with my super-sensitive ears, I can't hear what they're saying, but I assume it has something to do with Ben ditching them for John and me.

One face sticks out among the rest at the table. Kyle isn't participating in the conversation, but is instead frowning and biting his lip, with the look of someone trying to sort out a particularly difficult math problem. He isn't talking, but judging by how his eyes keep flickering to his friends he is listening to them. Looking up again, he catches my eye and waves awkwardly, reddening slightly. I wave back, trying to maintain a casual expression. Kyle then looks away, giving the conversation his full attention. Or at least pretending to.

"What are they talking about?" John whispers, forgetting that they can't hear him.

"Us, I guess," I answer at a normal volume. "You used to sit there, right?" I ask Ben.

He nods, not looking up.

I glance back again, this time making awkward eye-contact with one of the many curious faces that immediately drops at my gaze. "Yeah, definitely us," I tell John.

For my entire school career, I have been virtually invisible to the rest of my classmates. Not anymore. Heads turn as I walk by, only to look away as soon as I make eye contact. I can't even get books out of my locker without hearing my name whispered, along with John's and Ben's. Even with my excellent hearing, I never manage to catch more than a few words or phrases, always out of context and not giving me a reason for everyone's strange behavior.

Still, I'm not on the Honor Roll for nothing. I faced a few curious stares and questioning glances when John started walking down the halls with me. But now, every time I'm seen with Ben, I get a combination of death glares and terrified expressions. Instead of ignoring my existence as they have since kindergarten, my classmates have all decided they either hate me or are afraid of me. Fantastic.

Before he phased, Ben was pretty popular in my grade. He was up there with Kyle in the sophomore social standing. So, it makes sense that all his little friends and admirers would hate me for "stealing him" or something. But that doesn't explain why that table of freshmen girls moved halfway across the cafeteria. John and I stopped terrorizing them weeks ago, but they don't move until now? I don't get it.

What bothers me most is that even Kyle is acting weird around me. He barely talks to me at all the first week Ben is with us, and when he does, it's only when someone (usually Taylor, because everyone else hates/ fears me) is with him. Though I must say, Taylor sticking by me means more than the opinion of the entire student body. She treats me no differently than she did before, and for that I am eternally grateful.

Friday of Ben's first week is just as bad as every day before, with no sign of any improvement. As we walk out of school, John is the only one in good spirits.

"I'm so glad it's the weekend," he says cheerfully. Ben and I exchange exasperated glances and ignore him.

From behind us a voice calls, "Brian! Hey, Brian!"

I turn around, Ben and John doing the same on either side of me. I realize we've unintentionally lined up the way we would run, with John to my right and Ben to my left. It's one of those weird things we find ourselves doing. John attributes it to wolf instinct. Ben blames it on us spending so much time together.

"Hey, Kyle," I say, automatically looking around for Taylor. If he's talking to me, then she must be nearby. But she's not.

"Hey, John. Ben." Kyle looks at Ben a second longer than he would normally as both he and John return the greeting. John is polite, but Ben looks determinately away, something Kyle of course notices.

"Brian, can I talk to you alone for a minute?" Kyle asks, turning back to me.

I'm shocked, considering his recent attitude towards me, but agree anyway. "Sure." Looking to John and Ben in turn, I add, "I'll see you guys later."

John nods and starts walking away, but Ben doesn't move, instead watching Kyle dejectedly. I hiss, "Ben," quietly enough that Kyle won't hear.

Ben looks at me, confused for a split second. Then he seems to remember what's happening, nods at me, glances towards Kyle, and runs to catch up with John.

"So, what's up?" I ask Kyle.

He watches Ben run for a moment, then turns to me and says seriously, "We need to talk."

"You already said that," I remind him.

"Oh, right," he seems to struggle with something internally. "Look, I don't know how to say this with offending you or, no- not offend but- I don't know, it's just-"

"Kyle, just spit it out, I won't get mad at you." I base this promise more on the fact I can't afford to be angry, and less on the hope that this conversation won't irritate me.

He pauses for a moment before saying, "Okay. It's just that, even though you're cousins, you and John haven't exactly been friends until this year. He was sick for a whole week, and when he came back, he ignored everyone but you."

Great. I assumed this was going to be about Ben, but I'd hoped the John issue had been dropped. Guess not.

"It's not that weird," Kyle continues, "but then the same thing happens with Ben. Have you even talked to Ben before this?"

I don't say anything, because Kyle already knows my answer. And he knows that he knows.

"Right," he breathes, frowning more deeply. "And from what I've heard, the last time anyone talked to Ben was before Homecoming. He didn't want to go to the dance, but he was supposed to go to Cameron Relich's after party, and he never showed up. Someone called, and his dad answered, saying he was too sick to even talk on the phone."

He pauses again, looking for some kind of reaction from me. But I keep my mouth shut and my expression normal, trying my hardest not to unwillingly betray anything.

"You left Homecoming early, remember?" he says. Of course I remember, and I know where he's going with this. "And then Ben shows up with you a week later. It's a little weird."

I can't help smiling sadly. Kyle's been more observant than I gave him credit for. "What are you trying to say, Kyle?" I ask calmly, dreading the answer.

"It's just weird, Brian," he repeats. "You've been acting weird all year. You're more confident, more, I don't know, authoritative or something?" He looks at me, as though hoping I'll start denying something. I don't.

"And the way John and Ben act around you," he continues, not looking at me anymore. "Like you're their leader or something. It's just-"

"Weird?" I finish, mildly amused. "It seems to be your word of choice, huh?"

"I'm not trying to accuse you of anything," Kyle assures me.

"That's funny," I say, a tiny bit of irritation leaking out from behind the careful wall I've built around my temper. "Because that's exactly what it sounds like you're doing."

"I'm not accusing you of anything," he repeats, this time stressing the word "I". Meaning, he isn't, but someone is.

"Then who is, Kyle?" I ask, much harsher than I meant to. I carefully take a deep breath before he answers.

"People are- are saying things," he mumbles, still avoiding eye contact.

"Tell me what they're saying, I'd love to hear this," I say sarcastically.

"A couple things," he says so quietly that, were it not for my excellent hearing, I wouldn't be able to hear him. "Most of them involve drugs and stuff."

"People think I'm a drug dealer," there is no inflection in my voice. I meant it to be a question, but in my anger- no, irritation. I'm not angry. In my irritation it comes out as a statement. It crossed my mind a few times when I pondered what people must be thinking, and I even heard my name mentioned along with the names of several illegal substances. I just didn't want to believe it.

"Some do," Kyle says slowly.

For a moment I don't say anything, instead focusing on calming myself down. I don't want to hurt Kyle. At least, I didn't a minute ago.

"Is that what you think, too?" I ask, trying desperately to maintain my composure.

"No!" Kyle replies adamantly, finally looking me in the eye. But then doubt crosses his face. "I can't see you doing anything like that, but-" he stops for a second, thinking. Then he finishes firmly, "But something's up and I want to know what it is."

For a moment, we just stare at each other, neither so much as blinking.

"I can't tell you," I hear myself say. I know I can't, but saying it out loud hurts me as much as it hurts Kyle.

He steps back as though I punched him. "You can't tell me," he repeats in disbelief. "I've been your best friend for years. Hell, I've been your only friend for years," he snaps. "And you can't tell me?"

The "only friend" jibe is clearly meant to hurt me, and guilt me into telling. Kyle would be happy to know that his harsh words accomplished one of their goals. It's my turn to stand there, feeling like I'd been punched in the face. And the gut. And everywhere else.

Still, I refuse to let this fuel my thinly-managed anger, so I calmly reply, "No, I can't. I'm sorry."

The malice slips off Kyle's face, leaving hurt and betrayal behind. Maybe the friend thing was a low blow, but my refusal to tell my number one something this important takes the cake.

My self-control is now dangling by a thin, unraveling thread. Without a word, I turn and run towards the woods, trying desperately not to think of anything or feel anything until I'm surrounded by the safety of the trees. Once inside, the thread snaps and so do I. I guess it's a good thing I wasn't very attached to the clothes I had on, because I won't be wearing them ever again.


	7. Risks

"**Take calculated risks. This is quite different from being rash." -George S. Patton**

The sun is close to setting, meaning that whoever is supposed to run tonight should be out here soon. I can't remember if it's John or Ben, but I know it's not me, since I ran yesterday. A vicious part of me hopes that he's late, so I can yell at him. I might even give my first Alpha command. Hey, I have to give one sometime, and it might as well be when I'm so angry I can barely see the forest as it flies by me. I've been running for hours, but still I couldn't be considered even remotely calm. So much for physical activity relieving stress. I guess that only works on normal humans. Though to be fair, it's hard to run from your problems if you're just going in circles.

I feel someone phase, right on time unfortunately, and immediately do everything I can to block my thoughts. For once, it's easy, because I'm distracted by a second person phasing. Both John and Ben are in the woods outside John's house, running in my direction. Excellent. They weren't supposed to both phase. I can yell at them.

But with them here, the nasty voice is silenced. As angry as I am, it isn't either of their faults. It's not even Kyle's, though I'd love to be mad at him, too. I try to block out the story, but somehow it slips through the cracks of the wall I've been trying to build all afternoon. Ben and John ignore my bitterness until they're caught up.

_I'm surprised you kept your cool that long,_ Ben says admiringly.

John feels mildly guilty that they weren't there afterwards, but I assure him, _I would have killed you both, I was so mad. Not at you,_ I add quickly. I can't rationally be angry with either of them, because they did nothing. I can't be mad at Kyle for voicing what the entire student body is thinking. I can't even be upset that everyone thinks I'm a drug dealer! The whole thing is pretty sketch, and I probably would have come to the same conclusion if the roles were reversed. No, what makes me angry is that I don't even have anyone to be angry with.

_The bloodsucker?, _ John offers.

_Or what's-his-name? The first wolf? _Ben suggests.

_Taha Aki, and no, it's not his fault. If we're pointing fingers, how about Utlapa? _I say. Neither Ben nor John know who I'm talking about.

_The rouge spirit warrior who caused Taha Aki to have to become a wolf in the first place? _ I prompt. I end up giving them the full story, since neither seems to remember our heritage.

_Hey, we don't all have photographic memories,_ John points out. He's both jealous of and annoyed by my tendency to remember random things that are not really that useful.

_Well this stuff is useful to us now, _ Ben says. _It just wasn't when we heard it the first time._

He has a point, and suddenly both he and John are asking me to recount as many legends as I can remember, hoping to learn something useful about being a wolf. That, and they're hoping to cheer me up. We don't really learn anything new, but at least goal number two is met. By the time I've told every story I know, it's very dark, and I'm actually in a good mood.

A terrible, awful smell reaches my nose. Every breath I take feels like I'm inhaling bleach. I stop running because I can't even think through the pain.

_What the hell?_ Ben whines and paws at his nose, as though trying to rip it off.

_Bloodsucker_, John says, breathing determinately through his mouth. _About time it showed its ugly face._

_ More like ugly smell,_ I correct. _Ugh, it reeks!_ But somehow through the mind-numbing stench I realize a scent this strong has to be fresh. It's nearly as bad as the time I went to the Cullen's house.

_Then what are we waiting for! Let's follow it!_ John says excitedly, already anticipating a fight.

_We're not fighting unless we have to,_ I reply firmly. _ But you're right, we'll probably never get a chance like this again. If we can just get a look at what we're dealing with, it would be great._

_ Sounds good to me!_ John agrees, starting off.

_Wait! _ I order. John stops reluctantly. _Ben, keep running the circle. Run as fast as you can, and don't let anything in._

Ben is both relieved and slightly annoyed to be left behind, but immediately starts running again at twice the speed. _Don't worry, I got this! _ He promises.

_C'mon,_ I tell John. Together we run after the trail. It leads us away from home, towards Forks. When we're just outside the town, we stop running. I'm hesitant to go into Forks for a few reasons. Still, we may never get an opportunity like this again, so I make my decision.

John immediately argues, _Brian, you are not going alone! If it turns into a fight, you can't take it by yourself._

He's right, but I'm more concerned about being seen. Alone, I can be more careful. _And it won't come to a fight,_ I promise John. Though part of me, the reckless part that is still angry, hopes it does. Maybe a duel-to-the-death with a bloodsucker will relieve some stress.

_Okay, now I'm definitely not letting you go alone,_ John says.

_I don't want to fight yet, I just want to see what we're dealing with. And if it does come to a fight, you can come help, _I tell him.

_Do you want me, too? _Ben asks, still running the perimeter of La Push.

_No, keep running. You're too far anyway, _ I say. Ben disagrees but has no intention of disobeying. John, on the other hand is already plotting mutiny.

_Stay here,_ I say, this time in the definite tone of an order.

Still, John protests, _Brian, I don't-_

_ Stay here,_ I repeat in a voice that sounds very unlike my own. It rings in strange double timbre that is layered with authority and command. For the second I give the order, I feel a sense of absolute power. I can't decide if I like the feeling or not, but the Alpha wolf in me growls with pleasure.

I was kidding about giving my first Alpha command tonight, but here I am with one under my belt. I feel John's muscles contract, and I know he won't move while I'm gone. He's surprised and a little scared, and quiet honestly, so am I.

_This is weird,_ he mumbles, almost hoping I don't notice. He's afraid I'll give him another order.

_I won't, I'm sorry,_ I say. But the second part is a lie and we both know it. If I don't force him not to, John will definitely follow me.

_Yeah, I know,_ he grumbles.

_Just stay here, _I repeat in a much kinder tone. _If there's a problem- which there won't be- you can come._

_ Okay,_ he whines. I choose to ignore him and head into town.

I've been to Forks tons of times, but at this time of night, everything looks different. And creepy. I feel like I'm in a horror movie where, in a few seconds, the monster jumps out of a closet. Then I remember I'm the monster. Awesome, now I'm afraid of myself.

Forks must not spend too much in the way of electricity, because the only man-made light comes from a few flickering street lamps that were most likely installed in the nineteen hundreds. Eighteen hundreds tops. Still, the dark is my friend as I creep along the streets, following the stench of the bloodsucker. It gets stronger as I get closer. It has to be somewhere around here. In the back of my mind I feel John stir anxiously, but I ignore him and keep walking.

The smell is unbearable by the time I reach one of the few stores in town, Newtons' Olympic Outfitters. My spider senses start to tingle (it's funny if you ignore the fact I'm not Spiderman) and I know the leech is nearby. So, I do the logical thing. I hide in a bush.

I feel very stupid and not very safe, but this is supposed to be a reconnaissance mission, not a smack down. That being said, my strategy is to remain hidden and hope I see something that makes the discomfort of hiding in a bush worthwhile.

None of us have a watch, of course, so the only indication I have of the passing of time is Ben's patrolling. One circle. Two circles. Ten circles. Twenty.

Finally, after thirty-seven circles, something happens. The back door of Newton's opens and a girl in her late teens or early twenties comes out. She flips a light switch on the inside of the store and closes the door. Then, she takes a set of keys out of her pocket to lock up. Unfortunately for her, she drops the keys and, swearing under her breath, bends to pick them up.

Even with my enhanced senses and reaction time, I don't even have a second to think before another woman has her hands on the girl's neck. I hear the snap of the girl's neck breaking and watch, horrified, as the woman brings her mouth to the girl's throat. The girl didn't even have time to scream.

The woman looks as though she's kissing the girl, but I know better. After a moment she raises her head, brown curly hair blowing in the breeze. Her beautiful face is tainted by the trickle of blood coming from her mouth, and her glowing red eyes light up the night. Breathing heavily, she looks around, sniffing the air. Her eyes rest on my bush, but make no sign that they see me.

In a single motion the she-demon tosses the girl in the store and goes inside. A split-second later she leaves the store, an old smoke detector in her hand. With a final glance around, she runs away at the speed of light. I don't even consider following. Instead, I sit in my bush, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

I'd probably would have waited there much longer if it weren't for the growing flames and billowing smoke coming out of Newtons'.


	8. The Right Thing

"**Managers are people who do things right; leaders are people who do the right thing." -Warren Bennis**

"I don't understand why she burnt down Newtons'." Not even an hour later, we're at the Cullens detailing the latest development. Or, at least John is. Aside from the introductions, I have abandoned my Alpha duties and left it to my Beta to give report. John is the most relaxed of the pack at the moment, calmly telling our story and feeling perfectly at home with the Cullens. Ben is putting on a brave face, but as he sits at their dining room table, it's obvious he'd rather be anywhere else. He keeps tapping his fingers nervously on the table, and I doubt I'm the only one annoyed by it.

I'm not the only one standing, but I am the only one moving. I think some small part of my brain stupidly thinks that if I keep moving, the memory of what happened will just fall out of my head. Instead, I just look as nervous as Ben. I'm an awesome Alpha. Not.

"She needed to cover her trail," Jasper answers John.

"I don't know, burning down a building is a pretty conspicuous way to cover a trail," John replies cautiously.

"It is," he agrees. "Which is why I don't think that was her primary goal."

"Then what was she trying to do?" John asks.

"Perhaps she was attempting to send a message to you. She wants you to know what you're dealing with," Carlisle suggests.

"But it didn't look like she knew Brian was there," John says slowly, as though he's hoping not to be proved wrong.

"Maybe she was acting. Or maybe she didn't know where he was exactly, but knew one of you were close," Emmett offers.

To think that evil, awful, _thing_ did that to the girl just to send a message to us makes me sick. I shouldn't have gone into Forks. No, I should have stopped that bloodsucker from hurting her. I should have-

"Brian, stop blaming yourself," Edward says from across the room. "There was nothing you could do to save the girl. It was too late."

I don't stop pacing. I guess he has a point, but it's not exactly comforting to hear that from another vampire, even a "vegetarian" one.

"Fair enough," he mumbles.

Fair enough. The girl is dead, how is that fair? I should have gone after the leech and-

"If she is from the Volturi you wouldn't stand a chance. You made a good decision."

I stop pacing and look at Edward. I'd love to hurt him right now. But am I really angry with him? No, I guess not. I remind myself that he's trying to help me, and that maybe I shouldn't be plotting murder.

Before he can comment on my thoughts again, I ask, "Is she or isn't she? Does this prove anything?" I really hope tonight was at least a little useful.

Carlisle replies thoughtfully, "Given the lengths she was willing to go to attempt to scare you, all while preventing the humans from suspecting anything, I'd say it is very likely she is part of the Volturi."

I appreciate his use of the word "attempt". In reality I'm scared out of my mind, but that doesn't mean I'm giving up. Especially not now that I know our friend really is part of the Volturi.

"That being said, she could also be experienced enough to keep the secret while harboring a love for theatrics," Carlisle adds.

Ben stops tapping long enough to blurt out exactly what I'm thinking. "Wait, so she's not part of the Volturi?"

"I don't think we can be sure at this point," Carlisle replies.

Awesome. He had to go and burst my bubble.

"That's great and all," I say, some of my irritation leaking out, "but I refuse to let this happen again. I don't care if she's got a love of theatrics or whatever."

"Maybe she didn't know you considered Forks part of your territory. I mean, she hasn't hurt anyone in La Push, has she?" Bella suggests.

Personally, I don't like the idea of a vampire attacking anyone anywhere, but I decide to let that go for the moment. "Then we're going to have to show her that it is."

"We could extend our patrol," John proposes. "We'd have to do two at a time, but since there's three of us now it shouldn't be a problem."

I nod, then turn to Carlisle. "Will that deter her if she's part of the Volturi?"

He frowns. "I doubt it, however it will help us determine if she is acting on their behalf or not."

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to be okay with this less-than-satisfactory answer. "Fine. If that's the best we've got right now, we'll work with it."

"Should we start running now?" Ben asks. I can tell he's still eager to leave, and honestly so am I.

But Carlisle stops us. "Before you go, I believe we had an agreement, Brian?"

I'm not entirely sure what he's talking about, and there's no point of faking it with a mind reader in the room, so I ask, "About what?"

"You were allowing us to stay until we had more information about the vampire on your land. Now that we do, are we still welcome to help you?"

Oh, that agreement. When I said that, I was hoping that the leech would be on its merry way and I wouldn't have to deal with anything. Now, I've got two pack members and we've had our first casualty. Part of me wants to tell the Cullens to get the heck off my land, and take my problems with them. But I can't. And I know that even with John and Ben, I may be in over my head here.

"Yes, I still want you here," I say sincerely, but reluctantly. Now that I know what they are capable of, I'm less than excited to have a bunch of vampires living so close to me. Still, if the alternative is spending my life as a guard dog, I'll take a bit of discomfort.


	9. A Kiss

"**A kiss can be a comma, a question mark, or an exclamation point." -Mistinguett**

"Look, Brian, I know you're mad at me, but you don't have to ignore me!" I turn around to see a very irritated and windswept Kyle.

"I'm not ignoring you," I promise, confused.

"Oh, so you just didn't hear me yelling your name from the time you walked into school?" he snaps.

"Sorry, Kyle, I just have a lot on my mind," I reply.

"Okay, I deserve this I guess." He takes a deep breath before quickly saying, "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry, okay? I know you, and I know that you aren't up to anything and I shouldn't have listened to everyone else and if you can't tell me then I'm just going to have to deal with that and I'm sorry."

It takes me a second to figure out what he's saying (he talked very, very fast) and then takes me another second to figure out why he's saying it. Then I remember our fight on Friday. Somehow, in everything else that happened, I completely forgot about it.

But I don't mention that to Kyle, because he obviously thought about it a lot over the weekend. "It's okay. And thank you."

Significantly relaxed, Kyle smiles. "Good. But if you ever can tell me, and want to talk about it, you know where to find me."

"Thanks, Kyle, that means a lot." He looks at me for a moment, as though hoping I'd tell him. But obviously I don't.

Taylor creeps up behind Kyle and, catching my eye, motions for me to be quiet. Then she puts her hands over his eyes and sings, "Guess who?"

"Um, Bigfoot?" he jokes. She hits him, then spins him around for a kiss. I look away, a familiar mix of jealousy and guilt twisting in my stomach.

After a sufficiently awkward amount of time, they break apart and seem to remember I'm there. "Hey, Brian!" Taylor sings, flashing me a smile that erases the memory of the past minute.

"Hey," I breathe, trying desperately to remember that her boyfriend- my best friend- is just inches away.

"Are you ready for tomorrow's Chem test? I studied all weekend but I'm still so lost!" she moans.

Chem test. Another thing I forgot about over the weekend, but this time I at least own up to it. "I completely forgot. Do you want to come over and study after school?" The words are out before I can stop myself.

"Really?" she gasps. I hold my breath, bracing myself for her reaction. "That would be great! That would help so much!"

Inside I'm doing a touchdown dance while a thousand balloons fall from the sky and "We Are the Champions" plays. On the outside, I allow myself a smile and a brief nod before I dutifully turn to Kyle and ask, "Do you want to come, too?"

"Thanks, but my test was Friday. Kerwin's classes are a little ahead of Garret's, I guess," he adds smugly.

"Dork," Taylor says as she hits him again. He just laughs, and I can't help doing so as well. Terrible friend or not, I am sincerely looking forward to spending some time alone with Taylor.

"So the Rutherford Experiment discovered what?"

Taylor thinks for a minute, then answers, "Um, electrons?"

"Close," I say. "It discovered that the nucleus is small, dense, and positively charged. And that an atom is mostly empty space."

"How is that close?" she demands.

"It's on the same page of my notes," I mumble, feeling my face get hotter than it already is.

Taylor laughs for a second, then lets out a growl of frustration. "I'm going to fail this test because I'm so stupid and I don't know anything and I just fail at life." She shoves a handful of chips into her mouth and crosses her arms, pouting.

"No, you don't. You're a great person and you're practically a genius," I say as I reach out to touch her arm.

Taylor looks at my hand and I immediately go to move it, but then I hear her mumble, "Don't." It is so quiet that she can't have expected me to hear her, but I listen anyway.

For a moment, we just look at each other. Then she whispers, "Do you really mean that?"

"I do," I answer immediately.

The smallest of smiles crosses her face, and her eyes shine with delight. She is so beautiful, and I want nothing more in the world than to kiss her. The only thing stopping me is the knowledge that she doesn't want to kiss me.

But then she kisses me.

For a split second, I'm too stunned to react. But then I get over that and start reacting. Due to my lack of experience in kissing, I rely completely on instinct. Nature does not disappoint. I keep going deeper into the kiss, and never want this to end.

Then it ends. Taylor pulls away from me, looking horrified. I open my mouth to ask her what's wrong, but before I can say anything she answers me.

"Kyle."

I really, really want to be struck by lightning. And mauled by dogs. Then thrown to sharks. And stabbed a million times. That would be less painful than the knowledge that I just made out with my best friend's girlfriend. Forget terrible friend. I'm a terrible person.

But I accept all the blame and do not want Taylor to feel responsible. "I'm sorry," I tell her. "It's my fault, I'm sorry. It's all my fault."

She stares at me for a second, completely confused. Then, I assume to lighten the mood, she jokingly punches me in the face.

Or at least, I thought she was joking until she starts screaming.

"What's wrong?" I demand, looking for signs of distress or injury. She's clutching the hand she used to punch me, but how can it be hurt if I didn't feel a thing?

"My hand! I think it's broken!" she says from between her teeth.

"How is that possible, you barely touched me?!"

"No, I hit you as hard as I could! Damn, I think it's broken!" her eyes are starting to water and she's biting her lip. It still doesn't add up, but I'm more concerned about her well-being than what actually caused the injury.

"Hold on, I'll get my mom." I bolt to Molly's room and nearly break the door on my way in.

"Whoa, honey, where's the fire ?" Mom asks.

Molly sings, "Fire, fire, he's on fire! Brian's a firefighter!"

I ignore her stupid song and say, "I think Taylor broke her hand!"

Mom's eyes go wide. "How? What happened?"

"I don't know, she punched me and it didn't hurt me at all, but she's hurt, and Mom just do something!" I moan, feeling more and more horrible by the second.

"Why did she punch you?" Does my mother have to be a reporter right now? Can she just be my mom and fix it?

"Because I kissed her, even though actually she kissed me but I don't want her to feel bad because she's dating Kyle and I don't know why she kissed me but I'm not complaining, but she broke her hand!" I say this incredibly fast, hoping to satisfy all further questions and expedite my mother's healing actions.

"She broke her hand, punching your face?" Mom laughs to herself. "Now where have I heard that one before?"

Now I've had it. "Mother, please!"

"Okay, okay, hold on." She gets up and follows me back to the kitchen where we find a more collected, but still injured Taylor.

"Let me see." Mom takes Taylor's hand and asks her to move it certain ways. She does, but with varying degrees of pain. Each wince is like a dagger in my heart. I just want to die. Preferably painfully.

"Well, my mother-in-law's the nurse, not me," Mom says, "but I don't think it's broken. Sprained maybe, but not broken."

Relief washes over me, though I still feel awful for causing her any kind of pain. I still want to die, but maybe less painfully.

"You should probably get it checked out, though," Mom continues.

"Both my parents are at work," Taylor says. "I guess I'll go when they get home."

I bite back my offer to take her. For one thing, I don't know if she'd want me to. For another, I can't drive. Thankfully, my mom offers, "If it's okay with your parents, I could take you down to MedExpress. It should only take a little bit."

"Could you call my mom?" Taylor asks.

"Of course," Mom says. To me she adds, "Go get her an ice pack so it doesn't swell too much."

I'm back with the pack before Mom has even dialed the first digit of Taylor's mom's number. "Brian, you move remarkably fast," Taylor observes, taking the ice pack from me. For the first time I feel the need to explain everything to Taylor. I know I'm allowed to, but I've never imagined my needing or wanting to. Still, I feel that, after what just happened, she deserves some kind of explanation.

For being "Express" MedExpress is a very slow operation. After nearly an hour in the waiting room, we wait twenty minutes for someone to do the damn x-rays for Taylor's wrist. My patience is thinning, which is never good, and with every minute I feel more and more obligated to tell Taylor everything. I've almost convinced myself that it would be a good idea, even.

"This is ridiculous. I'm going to find someone to do the stinking x-ray," Mom says, getting up and walking out the door. A moment passes in an awkward silence.

Taylor breaks it with a half-hearted laugh. "I've always said you had a thick skull, but really, Brian."

I smile weakly, then make my decision. "Look, Taylor, about that-"

She cuts me off, "No, it's not your fault. I can't throw a punch. And you didn't even deserve that to begin with. I kissed you, I got what I deserved."

I can't take it anymore. "Taylor, I have a confession to make."

"What?" she asks.

"Before I tell you, do you promise to keep an open mind, and not ask questions until I'm done?" My heart is racing, but I'm still determined. What if she hates me? Worse, what if she doesn't believe me? I do my best to push those thought aside.

"Sure," she promises.

I take a deep breath, and start telling her everything. Well, almost everything. I leave out the "guard dog" issue, mostly because I don't want to freak her out any more than necessary. We're interrupted twice, once to take her x-rays, and once for them to fit her with a brace. Still, she never interrupts, and neither does my mom, who instead pretends to be invisible in the corner by the door.

I finish my story as my mom pulls out of the parking lot of MedExpress. As soon as I'm done, I'm filled with a sense of both relief and dread. It feels great to have told her, but what will she think of me now?

"Brian," she says slowly, looking at me for the first time. "Why are you telling me this?"

Okay, I may have left out a bit more than the "guard dog" part. With another wave of anxiety, I explain about imprinting. Again, she's quiet, but this time she seems a bit more uncomfortable.

"So, we're supposed to end up together?" she asks carefully. I can't tell if her face is showing confusion or dread. I hope the former.

"Not exactly. It's up to you," I assure her.

She still looks confused. "But what about you? Don't you get a choice."

It's a strange question, I think, but I answer truthfully, "No, not really. It doesn't really bother me, though."

"But that's not fair for you!" she exclaims.

I'm stunned and thrilled with her concern. "Nothing about this is very fair for me, but thanks for caring." I smile sincerely.

Taylor smiles for a second, but it is almost immediately replaced by a frown. "I can't tell anyone about any of this, can I?"

"No," I answer firmly. "If it helps, I can't either."

She doesn't seem to hear that last part. "Not even Kyle?"

I swallow as much guilt as I can. "No."

Taylor looks as though she feels almost as awful as I do. "I have to lie to my boyfriend?"

"I don't think of it as lying, just- avoiding the truth."

She shakes her head. "You're okay with 'avoiding the truth' around your best friend?"

My reply is quick and toneless. "I don't have a choice."

Taylor frowns, then nods sadly.

"Plus," I continue. "I feel so guilty that part of me doesn't want to tell him. I really dread that day."

"Wait," she says, horrorstruck. "Is it possible that he'd be a werewolf, too?"

"Possible? Yes." Again, my answer comes without any form of inflection.

We pull up in front of Taylor's house. I grab her stuff for her, and make to walk her to the door.

"Thanks for taking me to MedExpress," she tells my mom.

"No problem, honey," Mom replies.

I walk Taylor to her front door. "I'm sorry for everything. And we never really studied for Chem."

She shrugs. "I'll just have to figure it out, I guess. And don't be sorry." She then uses her good arm to take her things from me and opens her door.

"Taylor," I say, stopping her. She turns to look at me. "Thanks for believing me."

"Brian, you're a lot of things," she says. "But you're not a liar."


	10. The Inevitable

"**Bear the inevitable with dignity." -Streckfuss**

After the study session of the century, things were a little awkward in Chem class. Taylor and I still talked, but never about anything other than Chemistry, and I didn't let myself follow her to her next period. I knew it was probably better, but I felt like I drank a few bottles of acid from the Chemistry Storage Room. It was as though my insides were slowly and painfully being eaten away.

Other than her reserved attitude, Taylor didn't treat me any differently. She also did a great job of keeping my secret. She told Kyle she tripped on her way up to my house, and my mom and I took her to MedExpress. It wasn't a complete lie, and was entirely possible. He believed her, of course, and kindly carried her books to each of her classes.

Meanwhile, Ben, John, and I adjusted to our new boundaries and patrol schedule. To cover the territory, we needed two of us to run at a time, which resulted in each of us taking turns pulling two all-nighters in a row, then spending the third night sleeping it off. It wasn't perfect, but it worked. It also helped that our friend had once again disappeared. Still, that doesn't mean we've let our guard down.

Between the sleep deprivation and constant internal suffering, time flew by without my notice. It's already December, and Christmas is only a few weeks away. The ground is already covered in a thick layer of freshly fallen snow. It's a good thing I don't get cold anymore, or patrols would really suck.

"Don't forget, your last test before break is tomorrow!" Mrs. Garret calls from the front of the room. "Then on Wednesday we'll watch the extra credit Chemistry Holiday Videos you made, and then you're all on break!" She smiles sadly before adding. "I won't be able to see you wonderful people for two weeks! But I bet you aren't sad. You all think, 'Yes! Time away from this nut-job!' Yeah? Yeah."

"We'll miss you too, Mrs. Garret," Taylor calls from beside me.

"Thank you, Taylor," she holds a hand to her heart and looks around the room, as though knowing we all agree with Taylor. It's true, though. Perky as she may be, we all have a soft spot for Mrs. Garret.

As the bell rings for homeroom, Taylor turns to me, something she hasn't done recently. "Look, Brian. I don't have a right to ask you this, because I've been avoiding you and all, but-" she pauses, biting her lip.

Just thrilled that we're talking about something unrelated to Chemistry, I say, "Don't worry about it. What do you need?"

"Well, I was wondering if you would help me study for tomorrow's test," she mumbles.

Oh. So it is about Chem.

"It's just that I really need an A on it," Taylor apologizes.

"No, it's fine, of course I'll help," I promise, melting under her gaze.

"Can we maybe make it a group thing?" she asks. Her brace may now be gone, but obviously the memory of our last study session is not.

"That's a good idea," I nod. "I think we caught up to Kerwin's classes."

"Yeah, Kyle has his test tomorrow, too," she answers carefully.

"Great, you invite him and Cara. I'll bring John and Ben. I know neither of them have studied at all." To prove my point, I jerk my head towards Ben, who is asleep on his desk.

"Sounds good. Cara will love that John's there." She smiles mischievously.

"Trust me, the feeling is mutual," I laugh. "We just need to be done by dark, since I have to run tonight."

The true meaning of my words hit her, and she nods cautiously. "Okay, then right after school?"

"Great," I agree. I look up to see Mrs. Garret eying Ben's snoozing figure.

"You should probably wake him up," Taylor says, following my gaze. It hurts a little to know that the real reason behind her suggestion is her desire for me to leave.

Still, I nod and go to wake Ben. I've always wanted to push a sleeping student's arm out from under him, and my dream is realized as Ben's face hits the desk.

"Good morning, Sunshine," I sing as he looks around stupidly.

Realizing where he is, Ben asks, "Is it time to leave?"

"No, it's homeroom," I reply.

"Then why did you wake me up?" he moans, burying his head in his hands and closing his eyes.

"Because if I didn't, then Mrs. Garret would have in a minute," I reply, low enough that she won't hear. Then, since I know she's listening, I say, "Because I want to ask you something."

Ben groans in response. I'm not sure which of my answers he's responding to, but I'm assuming a little of both.

"Want to come over tonight and study for the test tomorrow?" I ask, glancing in Mrs. Garret's direction.

Ben stares at me. "Why?"

"Because I know what you have in this class, and you need to do well tomorrow," I say. "Friends don't let friends fail Chem." Mrs. Garret chuckles, then goes to grab something from the Chem Storage Room.

"No seriously," Ben says as soon as she's out of earshot. "Just you and me, studying?" He looks at me as though he knows my ulterior motive.

"Well, us, John, Cara, Kyle-"

"Taylor?" he smirks knowingly.

"Shut up," I mumble, embarrassed.

He ignores me. "So you want John and me to make sure you don't do anything stupid?"

"I can control myself, thanks," I snap.

Ben snorts. "Yeah, 'cause that worked out great last time."

I try to remind myself that he's tired, but I can't help the irritation that leaks out onto my face. Ben notices, and his posture immediately becomes more submissive. He looks down, trying to shift the blame, and mumbles, "John won't want to go, he hasn't slept in two days."

"He'll come if Cara's there," I remind him.

"True," he says, eager to agree with me. He yawns loudly.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," I say.

"Really?" he asks, surprised.

I try harder to conceal my frustration this time. "When have I ever forced you to do anything?" By some miracle, I've still only given one Alpha command, a huge feat given my recent temperament.

Ben considers this for a moment. "Can I have tonight off?"

Since when did this become a negotiation? "No."

"Can I be your second?" he tries.

"No," I reply, mildly annoyed.

As the bell rings, he tries one more. "Will there be snacks?"

I roll my eyes. "Sure."

Smiling as he grabs his books, he replies, "Then I'm in!"

A few hours later, my living room has been converted into a study hall, complete with (to Ben's delight) several snack options. We've only been at the books for an hour or so, but we're running low on food, thanks to his appetite.

Meanwhile, John has forgotten his exhaustion. Actually, he's forgotten almost everything other than Cara. The two of them are technically part of the circle, but for all intents and purposes, they are in their own little world, happily chattering away about what I'm sure is not related to Chemical Nomenclature.

For Taylor and Kyle's sakes, I flip through my notes and offer a formula. "N two oh three?"

Kyle is the first to answer, "Nitrogen trioxide!"

"No, it's Dinitrogen trioxide, babe," Taylor corrects.

"No, because you only do the number thing for the second part!" he insists.

"I think you're thinking of ionic compounds," I say. "For those you add 'ide' to the end of the anion."

"Like Sodium Chloride," Taylor offers.

Kyle glares at both of us and grumbles, "Sorry I'm an idiot. Didn't mean to rain on your genius party."

I raise an eyebrow. It's not like Kyle to get upset over something this stupid. "You okay, man?"

"Just asks the next freakin' formula," he growls.

Ben looks up from his snack and catches my eye. I know what he's thinking, and shrug as if to say, "It's nothing."

"H C L?" I say.

"Hydrochloric Acid," Kyle answers confidently.

"Right," I nod, absent-mindedly extending my hand towards the chip bowl as I look for another formula. My hand accidently brushes another hand, obviously John's or Ben's, because it doesn't feel cold to me.

"Sorry," I mumble, pulling my hand away.

"It's fine." I look up to see not Ben or John, but Kyle pull a handful of chips from the bowl.

"What?" he says, noticing my staring.

"Nothing," I say quickly. But as I look down at my notes, I compare a mental picture of Kyle a few weeks ago with the image of him now. He's grown about a foot, and bulked up, too. How did I miss that?

"Brian?" Taylor says, pulling me out of my wonderings.

"S oh four," I say quickly.

Kyle answers, "Sulfurous Acid."

"Sulfuric Acid," Taylor corrects again.

Kyle lashes out again. "Do you have to correct me all the time?! I already know you're smarter than me, do you have to point it out?! Why are you even here? You obviously know everything!"

The color drains from Taylor's face as she stares at Kyle's slightly shaking figure. Ben and John look to me, panic in their eyes. Cara just looks uncomfortable.

"Kyle," I say in my best human Alpha voice.

He looks up, and some of the anger drains from his eyes as they meet mine.

I continue in a calm but forceful voice, "Maybe you should go home. You look like you're getting sick, and you're testy. You don't want to say something you'll regret." Or do, I add in my head.

Kyle's eyes don't leave mine, but he seems more in control of himself. "I'm fine, I just- Sorry about that, Taylor."

"It's okay," she says in a much higher voice than normal.

"Go home and lie down," I order.

"I'm-" he starts.

"Go home and lie down," I repeat with every ounce of authority I have.

Kyle's shoulders slump forward and he makes a quick, almost involuntary nod. "Okay," he says slowly, grabbing his stuff.

"Feel better, babe," Taylor calls as cheerfully as she can. Her voice is better, but her face is still very pale.

Kyle waves a half-hearted goodbye, eyeing me carefully. I offer an encouraging smile as he walks out the door. With him gone, everyone but Cara is visibly more relaxed. For her sake, I quickly say, "H C L oh four?"

We keep up the study session, but it's obvious that no one is really paying much attention. Even John and Cara seem distracted. When the phone rings about a half hour later, my heart skips a beat.

"Hold on." I run over to the phone and check the caller ID. Then my heart completely stops.

"Hey, guys?" I call. "That's my dad. He should be home soon, then we'll be having dinner. So I think you should all go." My voice sounds forced, even to me. I feel like someone else took control of my body and is forcing me to do a passable impression of "normal" until I'm alone.

The phone stops ringing, but I know they'll call back. In the meantime, Ben puts the snack bowls on my counter and says, "See ya, guys." As he leaves, he catches my eye and raises his eyebrows. I nod, and he swallows carefully before walking out the door.

"John, are you going to walk Cara home?" I prompt, because neither has made any move to leave.

"Will you?" she asks eagerly.

He smiles warmly. "Of course. Bye, guys." As he opens the door for Cara, we repeat the same exchange I had with Ben.

It's only Taylor left. She picks up her binder and walks towards me, her face steadily losing color. "Well?" she asks.

As if on cue, the phone rings again. I glance at the caller ID.

Uley, Sam.

I look up at Taylor, who has also peeked at the phone.

"Guess you should answer it," she says tonelessly.

I nod, swallow, and press talk. "Hello?"


	11. Decisions

"**Make decisions from the heart and use your head to make it work out." -Sir Girad**

_Well, at least I know your secret now, huh? _Kyle laughs, trying to lighten the mood. I just finished explaining everything to him. He's taking it remarkably well, which makes one of us.

_It's not like it's your fault,_ he reminds me.

_Still, I was hoping you wouldn't have to deal with this,_ I explain.

_It doesn't seem that bad, and, hey! Guess I don't have to take the Chem test tomorrow._ He says, significantly cheered by the idea._ Good thing, too. I wasn't ready at all._

_ Lucky,_ Ben grumbles. _But you know, now that there are two of you, I really don't need to be here…_ he trails off hopefully.

_Yes, you do._ I say firmly. _Kyle's new, so he can't run by himself._

_ I ran by myself my first night!_ Ben argues.

_No, you didn't!_ I snap._ I ran with you. I had to leave Homecoming for you! _

_Details,_ is his reply. _Please can I go?_

_ No. Shut up and run,_ I snarl. I'm really not in the mood to have Ben whining all night.

Afraid to anger me any further, Ben obeys, and then does his best to keep himself from my attention.

_Look at you, Brian. _Kyle says. _ Laying down the law._ He is both impressed and a bit afraid of me. Ben's unspoken fear has leaked into Kyle as well.

_Why are you so afraid of an Alpha command?_ I demand.

Ben flinches, not at all eager to reenter the conversation. _I'm not afraid, I just would rather not get one. It doesn't seem like fun._

_ I don't think it's supposed to be,_ I point out.

_Easy for you to say,_ Ben says. The Alpha in me resents the attitude, but I still don't like Ben being afraid of me.

_I'm not, _he lies.

I decide to change the subject. _ Any more questions, Kyle?_

_ More like a concern,_ he clarifies. _What's going to happen between me and Taylor? Do I have to avoid her? And I can't tell her, can I?_

Awesome. I was already feeling guilty about Ben, and now Kyle has unintentionally forced me to tell him the one thing I was trying to hide.

I don't focus my thoughts, and instead let it all rush out at once, allowing Kyle access to everything I've been keeping from him for the past few months. Watching my own guilt-ridden memories is bad enough, but watching Kyle watch my memories? I feel like throwing up.

Once he knows everything, I just wait for him to react. For a moment, he can't. He stops running, and (even though I shouldn't) I do too. Ben has a fleeting thought about the border being at risk, but I ignore him.

_Kyle?_ He still seems incapable of any reaction. Then, suddenly he pounces on a pine tree twice his size and knocks it over. Undiluted anger courses through his veins as he tears the branches off limb by limb. I wonder why he doesn't turn around and hurt me. It's not like I don't deserve it.

_You don't, that's the problem!_ He exhales, then knocks down another tree triple his size.

_Yes I do. I stole your girlfriend, I lied to you, and I kissed her. _ I remind him. If I were him, I'd bite off my head.

_You didn't have a choice, you weren't allowed to tell me the truth, and she kissed you,_ he answers. I can't deny he's right. Still, I'd be mad at me.

_ How can I be? I know exactly how you feel about her! _ He says. _I can feel how you feel. I thought I loved her, but this- this is something more. _

Now finished destroying foliage, Kyle lays down and puts his head in his paws. I know he's pondering the same question I am, no mental link required.

_I really don't know what to do, _ I say. _ I've thought about it for a while, but I still hadn't come up with what to do once you phased. _I'd racked my brain for hours, but nothing I came up with seemed right. There didn't seem to be a way to make all three of us happy.

_Because it isn't possible,_ he grumbles. _She's meant to be with you, and that's that._

_ But she's happy with you! _ I bring up the memory of her face after she realized he had phased.

_She'll be happier with you. You'll give her everything she could want._ Kyle tries and fails to conceal how much this is hurting him.

_All I want is for her to be happy. _I start. _I don't care if she's with me. She knows that offer is on the table, and she still picked you! _ I remind him of her reaction after we kissed. That cheers him up a bit.

_But I can't date her now. Not knowing how you feel about her! _He insists.

_Right now, you're what she wants. Until that changes, I want you two to stay together. _ I say firmly.

_Don't be stupid,_ Kyle says.

_I'm serious,_ I insist. _I want her to be happy, and if you want me to be happy, then you'll make her happy, damnit!_

Kyle bark-laughs. _ I don't think I've ever heard you swear._

_ I'm serious, Kyle. I'm willing to make you continue to date her._ My threat is real, though Kyle doesn't regard it as one.

_Who am I to refuse an angry Alpha? _ He muses. _ Are you sure, Brian?_

_ Yes. As long as she's happy._

_And if she decides she's not happy with me anymore? _ He asks.

_Then I'll find another way to keep her happy, whether it's with me or not._ I say confidently.

Kyle shakes his head. _ This imprinting thing is messed up._

It really is though. But then again, so is the rest of my life. I never thought I'd have to potentially force my best friend to date the love of my life. But I never thought I'd be the leader of anything, let alone a wolf pack. The fact remains, I'm not the same Brian Clearwater I was a few months ago. For better or worse, I've fully adapted to a life of tough decisions, authority, and protecting the tribe.

And that includes resuming my patrol.


	12. For Further Reading

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked "Keeping Secrets" you might like its prequel, "Family Secrets". Also, keep watching for the next part of Brian's story!

And if you're wondering how Brian's parents met, check out the "My Werewolf's Keeper" series.


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